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Two Little Cats

And there we were,
two cats in a basement
playing jazz and singing,
Madeleine and I
our whiskers twitching
in time and down the line
we would reminisce
on pillows from Thailand,
something blue in a glass
and the Med in our hearts.
Until, memories
are all I have and a
fragment of material,
my rucksack in the attic
and grainy black and white
pictures of two girls
arms around each other
and oh those smiles
on our faces
loving every minute of it,
invited back weekly
by the manager
and feeling cheeky
we danced and pranced,
stole kisses
to just wake bleary
in our turrets in the sky
our nocturnal adventures
making us sleep through
classes. Now, keeping our
secrets, mine now, just mine,
Goodnight my fellow feline friend
I hope you are playing
and singing jazz somewhere,
I'll hold you to a tune someday.
Until then, I'll hold a fragment
and swear I can hear you
whisper in my ear,
something catchy
perhaps in a tune on the radio.

Poetry by Elle

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Editors' choice
Written on 2024-05-06 at 13:39

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Griffonner
May I say congratulations on being featured front page. I've read your poem several times and each time am rewarded with a pleasant, warm sense of greatly valued memories being shared with me, and then the aftertaste is the bitter unfortunate loss of your (presumed) friend Madeleine. Thank you for sharing this worthy read. Blessings, Allen
2024-05-28